Freedom
by with-her-eyes-wide-shut
Summary: What if Max and the rest of the flock didn't exist? What if the whitecoats created many different types of mutations? Read to find out. FIRST STORY!


Prologue

Free. Most people think of an open field, or America. I think of flying, of the wind whistling between my wings and tossing my hair.

Yeah. I said wings.

I suppose you need me to start at the beginning. The truth is, for me at least, there isn't really a beginning. My first memories begin in a cage. Being brought out for testing and so that people could measure my wingspan. Antiseptic smells filling the air. Men and women in white lab coats bustling around, engrossed in data tables or mixing substances in test tubes. Blood being drawn from me every day for experimenting. But enough of my memories. The true story of the end of the world goes back to a dangerous idea. Thousands of scientists, coming together to engineer an apocalypse. Realizing they needed to create a species that would not only survive the apocalypse, but that could help them rule over the remaining survivors.

And so began the experiments, genetically engineered children with special powers, known as Generation 100.

I am part of Generation 100, and this is my story.

Chapter 1

The bell in the cell block rings, waking me from my nightmare of being kept in the lab. There is no relief in waking. Rubbing my eyes, I crawl to the door of my cage and look out. Scientists walk up and down the aisles between cages, distributing food enhanced for their powers to each experiment. I look up just in time to see the usual gray slop and water being slid through my door. It's a smaller amount than usual, so I shot a look at the scientist handing out the food a quizzical look. Smirking back at me, she answers me. "Testing day!" she snarls, and kicks my cage, spilling my water. Glaring up at her, I straighten up in time to hear her colleague say to her, "Don't get it angry. It needs to have normal performance levels in it's tests today." Grimacing and muttering to myself in anger at being called an it, I retreat to the back of my cage to eat. Feeling watched, I turn around to look at the cage next to me, and see the experiment inside staring at me. Our cages are constantly rearranged, so I don't recognize the girl next to me. She is petite, with pure white hair cut in a pixie style, and has huge violet eyes framed by dark lashes. At first glance, her skin looks very pale and I wonder if she's sick, till I realize that all her skin is just as pale as her hair, and shimmers softly. I'm in the middle of wondering what her power is-no doubt her bizarre appearance is related to it in someway- when she speaks. "Sorry that you have testing today," she whispers softly. "I know how awful they can be." "Thanks…" I answer. Anybody in this hellhole knows that the scientists are evil, and power hungry, and PLANNING TO START AN APCALYPSE TO KILL EVERYONE. Her sympathetic words can do nothing to change our current situation. Turning my back to the girl, I stare in the opposite direction at the hundreds of other experiments in my cell block. Maybe by ignoring her, I've hurt this girl's feelings, but honestly, I don't care. To grow up here, you need to be tough, emotionless, and friends make you weak.

A couple of hours after breakfast, one of the scientists is sent to retrieve me for testing. Pausing in front of my cell, they take a minute to type in the complicated combo lock on my door. I am then dragged out by the prison's super strength enhanced security guards, handcuffed, and lead to the testing wing of the facility.

On the way there, we pass the other wings of the building, which contain experiments whose powers require them to have a special room instead of an extra strong cage with a code on the door. Peering in the one way windows, I see their enhanced cells. One room has two kids held from the ceiling by shackles. Another contains a girl in a giant cage over a pit of fire. I shudder, and look away, not wanting to see the rest of the experiments' torture. Soon we reach the testing chamber, and it begins.

As soon as I enter the room, the staff surrounds me. They take my height (6'0), weigh me, and measure my wingspan (15 ft), all while talking amongst themselves.

"Her growth is coming along nicely."

"Experiment 1835's wingspan is 15 ft!"

"The hollow, bird like bones and air sacs seem to be working."

Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply as their voices babble together in the background. Opening my eyes, I see that one of them has brought out a mirror to check my wings, and looking into it, I see my reflection for the first time in a month. An extremely tall 15 year old girl with waist length dirty blond hair in a messy side braid and tan skin stares back with tawny eyes containing gold flecks. *A scientist nudges my back, and I unspread my favorite part about myself, my wings. Brown, with streaks of dark red and bronze, these wings are what makes me special, or so I am told. And although sometimes I hate myself for thinking it, for believing the scientists, I feel like they do.

After the scientists have poked and prodded me enough, the best part of training begins.

I'm brought out to the courtyard of the prison. I unfurl my wings, and get a running start. With a few hard beats of my wings I rise off the ground and into the air. I'm not trying to escape, as there is an electrical ceiling surrounding the courtyard. I am doing what they expect me too, showing them how well I can fly. This feels wrong to me. Like I said, flying is freedom, and these monsters should not be allowed to witness the one thing that makes me happy.

The rest of testing whizzes by. Hand to hand combat, which I excel at. Stealth, which I struggle in. Reflexes, knowledge, speed also fly by.

I am brought back to my cage at the end of the day by the same scientist and guards that picked me up this morning. I am about to crawl into the cell when one of the guards grabs me with his arm and holds me still while the scientist takes out a syringe and draws blood to be examined on whether to increase my food intake, etc. Yawning, the scientist then leans down and types the passcode for my cage. But something is different. This scientist is so tired that he does it right in front of me, allowing me to see the code. I stare at it, trying to commit it to memory. If I've every remembered one thing in my life, this should be it. Just as he has almost finished typing, the scientist adjusts his position and puts in the last three digits of the code. I bite my lip to keep my self from screaming in frustration. I need those last numbers if I have any hope at all of escaping. The guards grab me and procede to shove me roughly inside. Grinning at my discomfort in the cage, they slam my door shut and follow the scientist away.

I watch them go, a flicker of freedom burning in my chest.

**Ta-da! Hope you guys liked it! Reviews would be greatly appreicated!**

**~With her eyes wide shut**


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